


The Fallen King

by Witchcraftandwine



Category: LoliRock (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, I have no shame, Lolirock OC, Lumina - Freeform, Lumina of Aquaria, Post S2, Rewrite, Shameless OC romance, What is this even?, World building Mutha fuckas, rewrite of old tumblr fic, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchcraftandwine/pseuds/Witchcraftandwine
Summary: Following his defeat at the hands of Princess Iris and her friends Gramorr fully expected to die, he did not expect to wake up in a beautiful underwater kingdom, with a mysterious and beautiful queen.  He did not expect to discover things about himself that had been locked away in his own mind.  He most certainly did not expect that he would ever be fighting beside the young princess he once thought to destroy.
Relationships: Gramorr (lolirock)/OC, Gramorr/OC, Mephisto/Talia (LoliRock)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	The Fallen King

There was pain.

As he slowly drifted in and out he knew only pain, in his body, in his mind. He hadn't know this kind of pain was possible. Oh he had felt pain before. As his body and flesh had decayed with corruption of magic he wasn't physically built to wield, that had brought pain but this? This was agony beyond imagining. But… He had won, hadn't he? He had grasped that sweet power in his hand he knew it. He remembered the feel of it, how for a flash everything had been just as it should be, and he had been filled with knowledge. All his dreams, every wish, every desire there at the forefront of his mind, but, something had mingled there, flitting between images of power and control, someone had laughed and danced at the edge of his memory, teasing glimpses of ocean blue eyes that tempted him, a soft voice… he reached.

Gone in an instant.

He roused slowly clawing his way through a deep fog of pain and magic that left him weaker than a babe. How was he even alive? That moment as he’d careened backwards his stomach dropping as he hit the open air his feet leaving the platform he’d known he’d die. Even as he’d reached out and been snubbed by the traitor, he had known his life was over. He'd felt his mask shatter, it was as if that crack had been his life, everything he had built. And even as he fell he found himself thinking, why? Why had he started this? How had he failed? What was it he wanted? Oddly as he fell he found he couldn't remember the real reason. So he had closed his eyes and let himself fall.

But… he wasn’t dead.

No the pain in his body was all too real and inescapable. He felt heavy lethargic, a weakness that came only from a human body. Admittedly he’d never been dead before (Or if he had prior to this life he certainly didn’t remember it.) so he couldn’t really say for sure what death would be like. But he imagined the heaviness of a body would be gone. Or rather he hoped so. If death was lingering in this blackness heavy and in pain for eternity… well he supposed it would be a suitable punishment, what greater hell for a man who desired power, then weakness and vulnerability?

It took time but his eyes opened slowly only to quickly clamped shut. It was too bright! How? Was it a limbo? Was he trapped in that instant of the blast? Always trapped in that moment of failure never again to know peace? N-no he could move he was breathing. Panicked breaths of a man terrified by his own mortality, but breaths all the same. He could feel his body and mentally worked his way along, slowly flexing fingers, curling toes, testing his body. He felt sluggish but he could move, and that he supposed, was a good sign. 

As he took stock he realized his right arm burned wildly as did his face, it was a strange feeling. They had always ached but this burning was awful, his flesh felt tight and uncomfortable like it was being pulled on, it was difficult for him to understand but he knew he didn't care for it. He flexed his right hand or rather, he tried to. The pain was immense and the tightness of his flesh made him worry that it would simply tear with the attempt. He knew without seeing his gauntlet was gone, no mask, no gauntlet, weak and alone. Everything was gone… so why wasn't he dead? Everything else was taken why not his life? Why was he laying here suffering like this!

Here…

Where was here?

He struggled again to open his eyes, blinking rapidly when they watered against the light as slowly they cleared and adjusted. He didn’t recognize his surroundings at all he had honestly expect to find himself in a dungeon cell but instead he was laying on a bed. It was very grand, and unlike anything in the Ephidian Palace. The bed was large and very soft the mattress stuffed thickly with feathers and the rich blue quilt that lay over him the same. Draping down from the ceiling that was domed was a fine gauzy curtain. It was thin enough to see through but gave a foggy blur to his surroundings. Even with that film he could see clearly a world far different from what he had expected.

The room was sparsely decorated not much was needed because the walls, he realized where clear. It wasn’t a dome, but a bubble. Just beyond the walls of the room he watched life thrive just out of reach. Schools of brightly colored fish, hot red and yellow coral, streamers of green kelp. He was… underwater! It was extraordinary. For a moment pain and confusion where lost to an almost innocent wonder of the world beyond the bubble, dark shapes indistinct but obviously massive passed so far away, whales? What other creatures where there what wonder lay just beyond his vision in that clear vibrant blue?

He came back to himself and took a closer look at the room. What must have been sun light was rippling and filtering from above. What furniture that was in the room was sparse, the bed he lay in of course, a table an chair possibly for dinging? A writing desk, and interestingly a ladies table. Little crystal bottle where neatly arranged and sparkled in the soft light. Everything was very fine. The furniture crafted of a strange almost alabaster looking material. Milky white and Just vaguely opaque. There was golden gilding along it, and he remembered vaguely a few pieces similar to this in the palace. Something tickled his memory, but he couldn't quiet reach it, all he knew was that he must be in a palace. But if he wasn't in Ephidia what kingdom was he in?

He found himself only barely able to lift his arms but he saw why the right one burned so. Smeared thickly across his flesh was a foul paste. He vaguely recognized it as a healing solution. Applied heavily it would slowly dissolve into the skin healing and repairing extensive damage. His claw was gone, the gauntlet containing his power, had it shattered as well? He couldn’t remember clearly.

He didn't know where he was but he felt better having seen his surrounding at least. With that done he returned his focus to his body so far he'd only been able to turn his head from one side to the other to look around, but he had become aware that the way he lay on the bed he had been carefully arranged, while most of him was covered by the quilt, his right arm was above it resting on a separate cloth. It was a slow and arduous process lifting his arm to see it, he hadn’t seen his bare arm in a long time and as he gazed at it. It was difficult to reconcile the withered limb, coated thickly with a healing paste, as his arm. He studied it with a critical eye knowing it's appearance was a cost of using such power, but, how had he not noticed so much damage to his own body? He already guessed that his face stung for the same reason, who ever had applied the paste to his arm had done the same for his face. Further he could feel it up his throat across his chest around the ribs… his back. It stung, as he grew more aware of his own body he grew more aware of the burn. The pain. Part of him wanted to sink back into sleep and to never wake again, but his pragmatic self refused such an indulgence.

Studying his arms had also made it clear he was topless. Thankfully he could feel the faint snug waistband of trousers and wondered if they where at least his own. Spare him that dignity at least, he though with annoyance. It was bad enough that he was so weak he was trapped in an bed in an unknown kingdom but the idea of having been stripped and redressed was a little too much. Why such a simple thing seemed to be where he drew the line he couldn't rightly say but good god everything had been taken from him, spare him something!

“You’re awake…” the voice was soft but startled him, he hadn’t expected nor heard any approach, he hadn't seen anyone while looking around the room. There was a movement to his right and he let his head fall to that side to look at the visitor. He still felt weak but he fought to hold his hand high a spell trapped on his lips. Standing beyond the film of fabric was a woman She stood tall, her chin up her shoulders back. The ornamentation on her robes, in her hair he knew without asking he was looking at a queen. She approached slowly reaching out and parting the curtain without the filmy fog she seemed more real and strangely beautiful. 

For a moment, as he watched her, he felt the strangest pang in his chest, an urge... no a deep need to reach out and touch her face. She tied back the curtain and sat carefully on the edge of the bed, it was so large though he barely felt the dip of her weight as she lifted a hand and murmured something. Her hand glowed softly the magic moving in time with the ripples of light as a cool tingle washed over his skin bringing a strange but soothing sensation.

“You shouldn’t push yourself, you are still quiet weak.” She said softly, a gentle but firm hand pushed his arm back down onto the cloth. He stared at her watching every movement but saying nothing, not trusting the stranger who seemed to stick out in his mind like a splinter, whose presence brought him a sense of peace and a deep discomfort. Pain? Sadness? What was this feeling inside him? She had a soft way about her, but he knew how to deceive and would not be so easily tricked if being near her caused these odd feelings inside him then obviously she was some sort of danger.

However; once she seemed satisfied about… something she looked him in the eye and smiled again. A good actress he’d admit but he knew how his face looked the damage to his body. How could anyone look at him and smile? Only black crystal magic could cause such damage, she would have to know this. So such a serene smile had to be a lie, a cover, because no one would trust someone so deeply corrupted…

“Do you have the strength to eat anything or do you wish to rest more?” she asked softly careful fingers smoothing the blanket, food? She was offering him food? Did she think he was stupid, He wanted to snap at her, to call out her false kindness but he did not want to expose his weakness anymore so he stayed silent and looked away shutting his eyes blocking her out. He was so weak, he didn't trust his voice, didn't trust his body… didn't trust this horrible beautiful woman. It was shaming, lowering to be so weak in front of an unknown factor. He felt like a defiant child and he despised it. Despised this weakness, this woman, that princess… Himself.

He truly despised himself. And for a moment as he lay there he wondered did he hate himself for failing… or for something else? After a long moment of silence the woman sighed softly and stood, he thought he heard something, a bell? No the chiming ring was soft but not a bell, maybe the ornaments of her hair?

“Rest then, you have much healing to do, Sleep now. I’ll bring food later.” She said softly he heard the rustle of cloth as she moved the robes she wore making a whisper of sound as she pulled the ribbon free and drew the curtain around the bed closed once more and left him.

Strangely the light dimmed against his eye lids and as he once more allowed his eyes to open. Turning his head he looked up noticed that a darkness have covered the top of the bubble shutting out most of the light, but the sides were still open filling the room with a gently blue glow, that rippled and filtered with the movement of the water. It was beautiful, it was soothing. And as silence settled he could hear sounds. It took him forever, far too long, to realize what he heard was the distant crooning song of the whales, the water carrying the melody to him.

The song lulled him, relaxing his mind and easing tension he hadn't noticed. Letting his head loll to the side once more he watched through half open eyes a crab scuttling along the sea bed. Well, he assumed it was a crab at least. It was just far enough away and blurred by the curtain that he couldn't be positive and yet he watched as it busily moved back and forth across a rock, back and forth, back and forth, back… and forth…

A soft soothing song, a dancing crab, waving fronds of seaweed glowing blue waters. The dance of light in deep… so soft… so powerful… he was so tired… they hadn't killed him yet he thought, so maybe it was safe to sleep? Even as he thought it, considered it his eyes drifted,

And he slept.


End file.
